


Turkey Sandwiches

by queenbaskerville



Series: I have no gift to bring [1]
Category: Daredevil (TV)
Genre: College, Gen, Light Angst, Nelson Family, Thanksgiving
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-04
Updated: 2016-01-04
Packaged: 2018-05-11 18:14:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,608
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5636950
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/queenbaskerville/pseuds/queenbaskerville
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Matt, are you in the dorm room?"</p><p>"...Yes?"</p><p>Foggy's distress rings clear over the phone.  "I thought you said you had plans." </p><p>.</p><p>Their first semester as roommates, Foggy goes home for Thanksgiving and Matt stays at Columbia, because where else would he go?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Turkey Sandwiches

**Author's Note:**

> Minor warning: swearing, brief mention of skipping meals. We also have the implications of abandonment issues, kinda unhealthy eating habits (or a lack of effort towards eating, basically), and low self esteem.
> 
> I have seen, like, eight episodes of Daredevil, and that was months ago, and I only rewatched the first four episodes since then. And I haven't read a lot of the comics. And maybe it's a little unrealistic, the closeness of a relationship that's only existed for a few months, but maybe not. Some people make friends really easily, and Matt and Foggy have been living together. Anyway, go with it. Go with the cell phones, too. Just forgive me. I'm exhausted.
> 
> Foggy's family is partly based on what I got from the 616wiki and partly made up.
> 
> Gen but could be read as pre-mattfoggy. That's how I'd read it, anyway.

_I will love you, and you and no other forever._

 

* * *

 

 

There's an absence in the dorm room that Matt doesn't like in the hours after Foggy leaves to see his family for Thanksgiving break. 

Matt doesn't like that Foggy's not there, and he doesn't like that he doesn't like that Foggy's not there. A little voice in the back of his head that sounds like Stick tells him he's getting too attached, and Matt doesn't tell it to shut up, because how can he?

He'd knocked on the door of room 312 several months ago prepared for awkwardness or cruelty, knowing that his blindness was going to be a disappointment and an obstacle to his roommate, and that he would probably have to change rooms several times in the next few years as people got tired of him. His plan was to study and ace his classes and become a lawyer. Making friends was not part of the plan. 

(Making friends had stopped being part of his plans a long time ago).

He thought he'd been prepared for whatever roommate God threw his way, be he uncomfortable or outright hostile, but he hadn't been prepared for Foggy.

Foggy just sort of... swept him away. Matt's guarded, he always has been, but he _likes_ Foggy. He really does. Somewhere along the line, one of Matt's barriers split open so Foggy could walk in its doors. Foggy doesn't treat him like he's made of glass, and he genuinely seems to enjoy Matt's company. He's funny and great and sure, the snoring is _awful_ , and sometimes the weed smell makes Matt want to gag, but he stopped smoking in their room when he realized that it made Matt uncomfortable. He stopped leaving so much of a mess because he didn't want Matt to trip, too. What's best, though, was what he _started_ doing. Foggy cares about Matt being included. He narrates, he guides, and he dropped some not-so-subtle complaints to the disability services after Matt couldn't find a textbook in braille for one of his classes.

Somewhere, somehow, Matt got so attached that it doesn't _hurt_ , exactly, when Foggy isn't there, but he feels _something_ , and he knows he's an idiot.

_It's only going to last until graduation,_ he reminds himself, because he knows that yes, he's way too attached to Foggy, but it doesn't go both ways. Foggy has other people. As soon as they stop being roommates, Foggy will lose interest, and he'll move on to better things _(better friends)._

It might even end before then, if Matt fucks up spectacularly. But he's been so careful. He'll make it last. He wants to be Foggy's friend for as long as he possibly can.

It hasn't even been a whole day and he already misses Foggy's heartbeat.

_Pathetic_ , Stick-in-his-head says. _Absolutely pathetic._

Matt tries to drown him out by studying. He doesn't eat dinner.

 

* * *

 

Even before Foggy knocks on the door he can tell that the house is in a bustle of activity, chock full of people all running around, whether chasing kids or cooking or decorating the house. Foggy throws himself into it all as soon as he unpacks, catching up with everyone and exchanging stories while helping his mother cook.

"How's college going?" Mom asks, and Foggy barely tells her "good" before his dad interrupts with, "You don't call us enough."

"I know, I know. I've just been so busy." Foggy passes his mother a stick of celery. "College is great."

"Are you liking your roommate?"

Foggy laughs at his mother's worried tone. "Mom, I told you when I called that first week that I like him."

"I didn't know if he was standing nearby so you didn't want to say anything mean."

"Nah, Matt's great. He's brilliant, too, you know. He studies _all_ the _time_."

"Isn't that what you're supposed to do in college?" Candace asks, stepping into the kitchen briefly for a moment of peace after playing with the youngest cousins most of the day. Foggy sticks his tongue out at her.

The day passes in a blur and he flops into his bed that night exhausted but happy. He sleeps like the dead, forgetting to call Matt like he'd planned to, and in the morning decides he'll call him on Thanksgiving instead.

He forgets about college and Matt with all of the happy chaos that is his family until they actually get settled at the dinner table Thanksgiving night. The places are set, the food is out, and everyone is seated. Foggy's mom starts off the line of "what-we-are-thankful-for" (other than family, because it's a given, at this point, and the repetition-- and there is a _lot_ of repetition, since there is a lot of family-- is tiring) that has been a Nelson Tradition since the dawn of time, and when it's Foggy's turn, he doesn't have to think.

"I'm thankful for getting admitted to Columbia and for having a great roommate," he says, and he means it.

"You should call him after dinner," his dad suggests, and Foggy nods. 

"I was already planning on it."

"Is he staying with his mother?"

Foggy had already told them that Matt's dad was dead. He... he doesn't know about Matt's mom. She never came up. "I don't know, actually." 

"He didn't say what he was doing over break?" Foggy's aunt asks, and he frowns. He remembers bringing up Thanksgiving to Matt a few days before he left, but...

_"You have any plans for this week, buddy?" he asked._

_Matt lifted his head from his books to face Foggy, glasses hiding his eyes. "Yeah, you?"_

_"Yeah." He grinned thinking about it. "Half the clan, at least, is gathering at our place."_

_"You sound like some sort of Scotsman."_

_"They may take away our lives, but they'll never take away our freedom!" Foggy shouted. "I just jumped to my feet and made a heroic pose."_

_Matt smiled. "No, you didn't"_

_"I totally did."_

_"You're still in bed. There wasn't any creaking from the mattress springs. No thud of your feet on the floor."_

_"When you're dying in your bed, many years from now, Matthew, would you be willin' to trade_ all  _the days, from this day to that, for one chance, just one chance, to come back here and agree with me that yes, I did jump up and stand heroically?"_

_Matt's smile dimmed a bit. "Maybe." He shrugged, and then he was back to joking again. "You'll pry that confession from my cold, dead hands."_

_One of the students who lived next door banged on the wall violently. "Stop yelling!" he yelled._

_"Okay!" Foggy yelled back._

_"My heart is free, and I have the courage to follow it!" Matt shouted._

_More banging. Foggy and Matt stifled their laughter. Sort of. Not entirely successfully._

Foggy had told Matt a bit more about who was going, and that had been all they'd said on the matter. Matt had never specified what his plans actually were, and Foggy tells his family this. Abigail asks him to pass the potatoes and says, "He probably mentioned it earlier and you forgot, and he didn't feel like explaining himself twice."

"That kind of rudeness sounds more like you than Matt," Foggy says, and when Candace giggles, Abigail flicks potatoes at her with her spoon. 

 

* * *

 

Matt's phone rings, calling, "Foggy. Foggy. Foggy," and he draws his attention away from his book to reach for his phone.

"Hello?" he says, or he tries to. It comes out in a bit of a rasp, and he has to clear his throat.

There's a soft whisper, so soft that Matt's sure it's not spoken near the mic and isn't meant to be heard by normal human ears. It sounds like Foggy; he breathes a quiet, "One, two, three," and then--

_"Happy Thanksgiving, Matthew!"_

The chorus of shouted voices makes him jolt, and he fumbles with his phone in his haste to pull it away from his ear. He puts it back hurriedly. "Wh-?"

"Happy Thanksgiving, buddy," Foggy says, and it's just Foggy this time, at normal volume, not Foggy and an army.

"Happy Thanksgiving to you, too," Matt says, wondering how he missed the fact that it was Thursday already. "Was that-?"

"The entire Nelson clan, minus the kilts? Yes." Foggy sounds like he's smiling and warmth courses through Matt. Foggy calls out, hand over the receiver, "Hey, guys, Matt says 'Happy Thanksgiving' back." His voice comes back louder; his phone is back at his ear. "Well, it's not the entire clan, but it's everyone who's here. Turns out I overestimated the number of people, but-"

"Foggy," Matt interrupts, _"Thank you."_

Foggy must somehow hear Matt's heart threatening to burst through his chest because he pauses before saying, "You're welcome, buddy," like he means it. And Matt can't hear heartbeats over the phone, but he can hear Foggy's tone, the weight to his words, and he really does mean it.

Then it's back to lightheartedness. "You wouldn't believe what the family managed to whip up this year, Matt, it was glorious. A spread meant for kings." A man tries to hush him but sounds flattered. Foggy carries on. "I mean it, Dad, everyone with an apron outdid themselves. You should've smelled it, Matt, your beautiful nose would've had a field day."

"My nose is beautiful?" Matt asks, amused.

"We're not having the hotness discussion again. It was embarrassing enough the first time." Someone laughs. "Shut up, Candace!"

Matt leans back in his chair and relaxes, listening to Foggy wax poetic about the feast he'd just gorged himself on, but he focuses less on what Foggy's saying and more on just hearing his voice again.

This goes on for a while until Matt's drawn back to seriously listening by the uplifted tail-end of a sentence that meant he'd just been asked a question. "Sorry, what?"

"I said, what did you have? Or what are you going to have?"

"For dinner?"

Foggy snorts. "No, for breakfast. Yes, Matt, for dinner."

Matt can smell his lunch, sitting forgotten a foot or so away from him, only one bite taken out of it. He should probably finish it. "A sandwich."

Foggy makes some kind of noise, like an impatient, _mm-hmm, continue, pal._

"Uh, turkey. A turkey sandwich. I used the last of that bread you bought, I hope you don't mind," he adds contritely. "I figured you'd be okay with it and that it would be a bother to answer a call about bread while you're with family."

Foggy doesn't sound like he's smiling anymore. "'The bread I bought'?" he repeats. Then, "Matt, are you in the dorm room?"

Matt isn't sure why Foggy's unhappy if it's not because of the bread. "...Yes?"

"I thought you said you had plans." Foggy's distress rings clear in his voice. 

"Yeah, to get some studying done," he confirms. "Finals are next month."

"I didn't know holiday plans meant staying at Columbia."

Matt frowns. "Why? Where else would I be?"

There's quiet on the other end. "I don't know. I guess I wasn't thinking."

"I got some good time in, took a few naps, made this sandwich. It's going great," he assures Foggy, knowing that Foggy needs to be reassured without knowing why. Matt only lies about the naps. "I might start our next paper tomorrow." He smiles. "That's what I'll be thankful for this year; a jump start on this paper."

Foggy laughs on the other end, and everything is alright again.

 

* * *

 

Foggy hangs up after promising to go back to Columbia tomorrow, but only manages overriding Matt's confused protests by reminding him that Foggy ought to get a jump start on the paper, too, and by  ~~lying~~ complaining about how claustrophobic he's feeling with all his family here.

"You know how it is, Matty. It's a _nightmare_ ," he'd moaned dramatically, and there had been a half-second of silence from the other end of the line that had made him feel even _worse_ , because, _hello_ , the whole point of this was that Matt  _didn't_ know, did he? 

Matt had replied, "Right," and somehow managed not to make it sound stilted or awkward as fuck as he transitioned into an amicable, "Don't worry, Fog, everything will be clean when you get back. See you soon."

The conversation ended soon after that and now Foggy is just standing in the hallway and holding his phone. He thumps his head on the wall and feels like an asshole.

Because yeah, Matt wasn't entirely open with him about what he was planning, but he grew up in an _orphanage_. His mother wasn't someone important enough in his life to mention when he talked about his dad, so why would Foggy assume that Matt was going to spend Thanksgiving with her? It's true that when most people say they have plans for the holidays they don't mean studying and being alone, but Matt isn't most people. Had he been embarrassed that he didn't have anyone to stay with? No, he didn't sound embarrassed. He sounded genuinely confused about Foggy's concern on the phone.

And that's another thing about Matt that Foggy is noticing. He doesn't understand why Foggy gets concerned for his well being. Like, ever.

Foggy looks at his family gathered in the living room, still talking and happy, and hears his family in the kitchen, playfully interacting and cleaning up at the same time, and he thinks about Matt, eating a turkey sandwich alone in the dorm room, and he wonders about how frequently Matt must have been alone as a kid for this to become something normal for him. He thinks about a blind kid at an orphanage, probably not fitting in well, and holidays spent missing his dad. 

"Are you done talking to Matthew yet?" his aunt asks from her seat on the couch.

"Yeah,"  he says, then clears his throat and repeats, "Yeah, he says he's still at Columbia. I'm going back early to see him."

"Wait, what?" Dad walks out of the kitchen, rubbing a hand towel over his fingers. "What's that about going back early?"

"I'm leaving tomorrow."

Dad's baffled. "Why?"

"I want to spend some time with Matt," he says, because it sounds better than _I left my best friend at Columbia because I didn't realize he didn't have anyone to stay with and I don't think he should be alone_. Not only does it sound better, but it also has the virtue of being true. It isn't pity that drives Foggy out of his house. He genuinely misses Matt's company.

It's something he'll tell him, when he gets back, because he's sure that Matt's will have something to say about pity ("I hate being treated like I'm made of glass") but he'll quiet when Foggy talks some sense into him about friendship and a complete lack of pity on Foggy's part. That's another thing about Matt-- sure, he doesn't always _understand_ the idea of basic human compassion being shown to him, but he always believes what Foggy tells him.

Okay, not true. He's playfully called Foggy out on a couple white lies Foggy told to mess with him. But on the stuff that Foggy tells the truth on? Matt never doubts his honesty. Foggy knows he doesn't.

His family eventually accepts his decision, too, but he really does have to up his persuasion skills. And his skill at resisting puppy dog face, and at resisting food. Very tempting promises of food.

At least the first two skills will be useful while lawyer-ing. Persuasion is a huge deal in court, after all, and Foggy hasn't seen it yet, but he's sure that Matt's puppy dog face is _killer_.

 

* * *

 

Matt smells the food-- apple pie with hints of cinnamon, maybe a quarter of a turkey, a few chocolate cupcakes, and peanut butter cookies-- before Foggy even gets in the room, but doesn't say anything about it when he lets him in, instead letting Foggy cheerfully greet him with, "Happy Thanksgiving, buddy!" and "I'm smiling at you so hard right now, but I've got a bunch of containers in my hands, so, sadly, no hug."

Foggy puts the containers (some plastic, Matt thinks, but also probably a metal tin, and all containing food) down on the bed and drags his suitcase over, beginning to unpack his things, but it's clear what he's intending to do. Matt takes a seat at his desk, feeling more at ease now than he has all week.

"Alright, I'll bite," Matt says, "You can't just leave me hanging here. What's in the containers? They're new."

"Not new," Foggy corrects, and he sounds like he's smiling again. "They've been around for a while."

"New to our dorm," Matt amends.

"A true statement."

" _Foggy_."

"Take a gander, Matty! What's the fun in just telling you? Guess."

"Hmm. Hand one over." Foggy puts the tin down on the desk, and it's close enough to his hands that Matt "finds" it easily, and it still would've been easy even if he hadn't known where it was because of the sound it made against the desk. He picks it up in both hands and shakes it gently, knowing he doesn't want what's actually inside to get all thrown around and squished, but it's enough to make a sound audible to both him and Foggy. "Hmm," Matt repeats, pretending to think about it. "Is it your rock collection?"

"They're peanut butter cookies," Foggy announces.

"So I was half right," Matt teases. "If you made them, they must be rocks. I'm surprised they're not still on fire, given how bad you must've scorched them."

Foggy makes a noise of protest. "I'll have you know they're top notch, Murdock! I am a _great_ baker."

"You're terrible at food."

" _Baker_ , Matt, not five star chef." Foggy says around a smile, and he takes the tin back. "Fine, be that way, asshole. See if I let you have any."

"Well, that might prove to be difficult--"

Foggy groans. 

"--Since I can't see anything."

_"Matt."_

He's already failed at keeping the grin down. "You walked right into that one."

"Yeah, well, you _won't_ see me give you any more opportunities for dumb blind jokes."

"Of course not," Matt says agreeably. They both know it's not true. Well, it's true that he won't see it, but Foggy sets himself up for this sort of thing regularly. He won't stop now. "What else did you bring?"

"I have an apple pie and some cupcakes, courtesy of Candace, who is taking all food preparation tips from Dad and not Mom, thank God."

"Candace is your older sister?"

"You're thinking of Abigail, and she isn't older than me, just the oldest _sister_. I'm the oldest _kid_ , and Abbi is a year younger than me, and Cande just turned ten."

Matt's embarrassed that he forgot. _Foggy deserves a better friend than you,_ Stick-in-his-head says, and Matt replies that this is too minor a thing for him to lose his shit over, and he tries to ignore that it's true. "Right. Sorry."

"No need to apologize, Matty. Anyway, we have apple pie and cupcakes, and the cookies, of course. And, finally, turkey. Two drumsticks, for you and me." Foggy is ticking everything off on his fingers. "I'm ticking it all off on my fingers, Matt. It brings us to a grand total of feast-level meal."

"Why'd you bring so much?" Matt asks. "I don't want to be the one defending you in court when your family sues for robbery."

"Oh, please. That case would never get anywhere." Foggy snorts. "Besides, it wasn't stealing. They practically forced it on me. Would have, if I didn't already want to bring you something."

There's an odd lump in Matt's throat. "Why?"

"A lone turkey sandwich does not a Thanksgiving meal make, Murdock," Foggy declares, but it's gentle, somehow.

Matt tries to sound indignant. "I was fine."

"I know, buddy. But the more the merrier, right?" Foggy sounds like he's smiling again. "More food, more _me_. What's not to get excited about?"

This would normally be the part where Matt would tease him, but there's something wrong with him today. "You should be with your family," he says, even though what he really wants to say is _, I'm glad you're here,_  because it's true. Foggy doesn't belong here, in a cold dorm with Matt. He belongs at home, warm and comfortable and smiling at his parents and his siblings and his cousins and his aunts and uncles and the whole pack of them.

Foggy's doesn't sound like he's smiling anymore when he speaks. He's not angry, but he's unhappy. Almost sad, but not quite. "I'm not here because of pity, Matt," and he cuts Matt off when he opens his mouth to speak. "I meant what I said on the phone. I missed you. You're my friend."

And Matt hears his heartbeat, hears _truth, truth, truth,_ and he smiles, because he believes him.

"Lets have that meal, then," he says. "I'm due for a dentist appointment. Lets get this over with. I'm not exactly eager to break a tooth on those lumps of coal that you call cookies, but..."

He's cut off by Foggy's outraged cry and his own laughter when he gets thwacked (gently) with a pillow.

"I hope your sense of taste is better than your sense of sight, Murdock."

"I hope not, for my sake."

"They are going to be delicious, Matthew! Delicious! You'll see!"

"Are you sure about that?"

_"Matt."_

 

* * *

"I'm glad you're here," he manages to whisper, when he's sure Foggy's asleep that night.

Foggy continues to snore. It's the best sound Matt's ever heard.

**Author's Note:**

> I've never seen Braveheart.


End file.
